A Jewish mom learning every day; often the hard way.

On behalf of stepmothers everywhere.

“You have seven kids? Wow! That’s a lot… I only see six. ….Oh? He’s your stepson… so he lives with you? …………….No? Oh, so you have six kids of your own………..”

“You have seven kids?! What’s the age range? …………………Oh, so one is your stepson. So you really have six kids, then.”

I cannot tell you how many times I have heard comments like these, or countless variations on them. Almost all of them are conversation with well meaning, kind, good people. I am certain that if they knew how hurtful and upsetting these comments are, they wouldn’t dream of saying such things.

I am an “Ima” to seven children. The first, my stepson, who I love and who yes, does not live with me, chose the name of this blog. So, yes, I am an “Ima” to seven children. My relationship with my stepson is different than my relationship with the other six of my children. My relationship with each of my children is different. I have one child who has another parent, another house, another way of doing things. It is different. Not less, not more. Different.

I could write a long post about the credentials that give me the “right” to say that I have seven children, although I did, yes, give birth to six, and I do, yes, have six children living in my house. I could regale you with tales of cleaning up vomit, wiping tushies, midnight peepee accidents, holding hands during scary stuff, scheduling and logistical gymnastics, school meetings, laundry, flexibility on every tiny detail of life, etc. I could talk about tailoring meals, trying to build character, discipline and learning from as well as teaching to this child. I could, in short, tell you the story of 11 years of parenting.

I could tell you that I would jump in front of a bus to save seven children without a moment’s thought. I could tell you that stepparenting can take more time, more energy, more patience than parenting a biological child living in your home.

I could also write about how adopted children are “counted” by strangers as our children. Children who go to boarding school are “counted”. Neither womb dwelling nor number of days living in one’s house each year constitute parenting.

There are women with children who have addiction problems (G-d forbid) that they are not in touch with, or barely see. There are women who don’t even have a speaking relationship with their children. And I seriously doubt that someone they just met would suggest to them that they need to edit or clarify the number of children they “actually” have.

But I don’t think any of that really gets to the point. The bottom line is that when I say I have seven children, I have seven children…..because if you could shrink yourself and get teeny tiny and crawl inside of my heart, you would find special little spaces that have grown in it. Spaces that weren’t there before, spaces that have caused me growth and pain and joy and limitless capacity for love.

And there are seven of those spaces.

The next time you meet a mom and she tells you the number of children she has, and she mentions that one/some of them are stepchildren, I hope you don’t qualify her numbers for her. I hope you don’t ask if they live with her. I hope you smile.

I really cannot presume to know how much this does or does not bother all other stepmoms. I also cannot, however, believe that it is just me.

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Wow, what a strong post. I could identify with so much of it. Unlike you, I don’t say that I have eight children, I say that *together* we have eight children. Each child fosters a different relationship with both of us, some we parent, others we don’t. I don’t necessary connect with all of my husband’s children, sometimes I don’t necessarily connect with the four I gave birth to. My parents, Holocaust survivors, adopted me when I was a baby, so I will be the first to say that biology does not make the parent. Love does not always make the parent. But a warm heart is always needed. Kol hakavod on your seven, may you shep tons of nachas from them!

For the rest of you out there, “Susan” was my close, dear, friend growing up, and she was a stepchild. As I look through the eyes of a stepmom today, her experiences as a child of divorce help shape my decisions. Susan, I am the stepmom I am today partly because you were the stepchild and the friend that you were then; xo back.

this was a really powerful post. and the only words that come to mind are: mother bear. maybe that and uncompromising love. that’s what you have for your children. all of them. and that, is crystal clear.

I am not a stepparent, but I am a stepchild. My stepmother has always really walked the fine line–she introduces me as her daughter, but at the same time has never expected me to call her mom (I can’t say the same for my MIL), because I *have* a mom. My relationships with my mom and my stepmother aren’t the same, but I treasure them both.

I don’t live with the expectation, but I do live with the dream that my stepson will grow up and feel just that way. There is a lot of poison there on the other side, so I don’t know if such a thing will ever be possible, but when I stepparent that is the goal I keep in mind….

Thank you for that. I am looking forward to seeing what it is like “on the other side” when my ss is grown. I hope to be able to describe things as you do. In the meantime, any and all advice is always welcome!

Hi I am half sibling. I appreciate this blog when I say i have three brother and they figure out that the oldest is 13 years older people demand an explanation. We are one family because my mom, his step mom made us one and he is 100 my brothernot 50 percent. Keep up the great work!!!!